


Rock You Like A Hurricane

by meetmebehindthemall (orphan_account)



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Doggy Style, Dom Michael, Dom/sub, F/M, Finger Sucking, Humiliation, Kissing, Masturbation, Mean Michael, Name-Calling, Prison Sex, Slut Shaming, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 09:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/meetmebehindthemall
Summary: Prompt: omg could you please write some Michael smut where the reader works in a prison and he gets arrested (ofc he could easily just kill the officers and disappear but he goes anyways bc he’s bored and just wants to fuck with people for fun). Maybe he seduces the reader and some prison sex happens 👀I’ll leave it up to you but I’m craving some Dom!Prisoner!Michael and Officer!Reader smut oof
Relationships: Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	Rock You Like A Hurricane

“Let me go you fucker!” You heard a deep voice yell, and you looked up from where you were doing your paperwork at your desk, surprised.

Two of your friends, George and Dominic, were hauling a dirtied, but still handsome blonde man in from outside, practically dragging him into one of the holding cells.

“You’re hurting me!” The man screamed and huffed when he was finally pushed onto the stone bench inside the cell, watching with disdain as George locked the door behind him.

George went off to fill out the paperwork for the new inmate, and you got up from behind your desk to pull Dominic to the side.

“What’s up with him?” You asked your friend, glancing over at the mysterious man. He was staring back at you in interest, licking his reddened lips hungrily.

“No idea. We found him alone and sitting in the woods, screaming about Satan and witches, or something like that. We’re just keeping him here until we make sure he’s not dangerous to anyone else or himself, and then we’re going to admit him. I’m thinking maybe a psychotic break?”

You nodded, still glancing over at the strange him, observing him.

He was dressed head to toe in black, save for a red tie. His blonde hair was messy, and he was covered head to toe in dirt and blood.

“What’s with the blood?” You whispered, feeling anxiety at the sight of it.

“He killed a goat. Absolutely ripped it apart from the inside out with a knife.”

What the fuck?

You shivered a little, seeing how the man could be dangerous, and decided to head back to your desk, not before glancing at the man one last time.

He was still staring at you, and you shuddered under his gaze, watching as he smirked at his effect on you.

Oh God.

It was the next day, and the man had been identified as Michael Langdon.

It appeared as though his previous legal guardian, Constance Langdon, had killed herself, and he was then placed under the care of Miriam Mead, a known Satanist in the community.

It was still unclear as to what had happened to the woman, and what had led Mr. Langdon into the woods that fateful day, just getting bullshit answers about witches whenever anyone asked.

But the man was over 18, and didn’t have any known contacts other than Mead, so he was to stay in the cell until the psychiatrist (who was currently busy analyzing another patient out of state) came back.

Dominic and George were out on a donut run, and the other officers were busy either doing surveillance work or paperwork.

You were pretty bored, and just ready to go home at this point, so you wandered over to Michael’s cell, figuring you could try to get some more information out of the man.

“Hey,” You said, awkwardly.

Michael’s head raised from where it was absentmindedly staring at the floor, and you noticed there were tears running down his face.

“You okay?” You asked, a pang hitting your heart when you saw he was crying.

Michael angrily wiped his face, and spat out, “Why do you care?”

You shrugged and sat down on the floor next to him. “I don’t know. Just tell me. What do you have to lose?”

Michael deflated and whispered, “I just lost the only person who ever cared about me.”

“Miriam Mead?” You asked, and he nodded. “What happened to her?”

“She…” The words stopped coming as he lost his breath. “She’s dead.”

“What happened to her? Where is she?”

Michael shook his head, “They burned her alive at the stake. She’s by the Hawthorne School.”

“Who burned her alive?”

“The witches,” Michael whispered, venom lacing his words. “I fucking hate them. They can all rot in hell for what they did to her.”

You tried not to gawk at him, realizing the rumors were true, that he really was crazy. I mean, witches? Magic wasn’t real, this you knew.

“Michael...” You started. “Witches aren’t real. Magic isn’t real. I think you’re going through a lot right now, and I believe you believe in what you’re saying to me. But you need to listen to me okay?”

Michael shook his head angrily, his voice cracking, “You don’t understand. And why would you?”

“What does that mean?” You scoffed.

“You’re mortal. You’re just a cop, who gets ignored by her coworkers, and does all of the grunt work for them. Pathetic.”

His words angered you, but at the same time you felt your cunt growing wet at his degradation of you. You always had a kink for men humiliating you in the bedroom, and it seemed that your body was reacting in turn.

Disgusted with him, and yourself, you got up, brushing yourself off and returning to your office.

“Fuck you.”

The psychiatrist was set to return tomorrow, and you were honestly glad, ready to get the arrogant man out of here, and with the help he needed.

You were glaring at him through your tiny window over your desk as of currently.

It was late, and you were the only officer left in the building, offering to lock up and watch over the inmates.

It was just like Michael had said the other day, you were just the doormat, doing everyone’s else’s grunt work, instead of going out into the field and making a real difference in the world.

Suddenly angry, you got up, and stormed over to his cell, where the man was sleeping uncomfortably on the stone bench.

“Hey,” You whispered harshly. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at you in confusion.

“I’ll have you know I work very hard at my job, and just because I do the…. less desirable jobs, doesn’t mean I’m any less important to the cause.”

He rubbed his eyes, groaning at the fluorescent light. “You woke me up to tell me this?”

“Yes. We didn’t finish our conversation yesterday.”

He sighed and slumped against the wall. “I can tell you’re very angry about this, and you clearly won’t let me sleep, so let it all out. Come on, go off on me.”

You told him everything. How everyone took you for granted, the low wages, and how you just wanted to quit at this point.

“So, why don’t you?” Michael asked, as if it was so obvious.

You paused before saying, “Because I’ve worked so hard for this my whole life. I did the school, and I don’t want it to all go to waste.”

“But it is. You aren’t really living now, are you?”

You pondered that, staring down at your hands, before looking back up at him. “How can you read me so well?”

He shrugged and you looked down again. “Besides, I think there may be more than just that.”

“Oh really?” You asked, amused. “Do tell.”

“I think a part of you, however may small, likes being humiliated. Degraded. Treated as worthless.”

You sucked in a surprised breath, abdomen tightening, and panties growing wet at his words.

He continued on, “And I think you went home yesterday and touched yourself after I embarrassed you so thoroughly. Am I correct?”

He turned to look at him, already knowing the answer, and smirked. “Say it.”

“I did. I touched myself to thoughts of you. You’re….not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”

He breathed in deep, almost like he was smelling your arousal, and pressed his face up against the bars of the cell.

“Let me out of here. Let me out, and I promise I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be able to feel it for weeks.”  
You gasped and grinned, practically running over to the desk you knew held the keys, hearing Michael’s laughter behind you at your eagerness.

You unlocked the cell, and was practically pounced on by the blonde man, kissing you deeply, and biting your lip, drawing blood.

“Ow,” You yelped. You drew back from him and stared at him slightly disgusted. “You need a shower.”

He pushed you down on your knees and shoved his fingers down your throat harshly. “Shut up.”

You gagged around his thick fingers and wet them as best you could. You tasted his sweat, and hints of something metallic tasting, probably blood. The thought of that aroused you far more than you were comfortable admitting.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he smirked at you, and grabbed you so that you were on your feet again. “Which one is yours?”

You were confused at first before you realized what he was referring to.

He wanted to fuck you on your desk.

You pointed to your desk, and he strode over, gripping your wrist harshly as he dragged you with him.

He pushed you so that you were laid on the desk and kneeled down so that he was between your legs.

He glanced down between your pencil skirt, observing how slick your panties were, and took a deep sniff, grunting in pleasure at the smell of your arousal. “Mmhm.”

You whimpered, and he took up at you seductively as he licked your through your panties.

You moaned and he dragged your panties down your legs, stuffing them in his pocket, before wrapping your legs around his shoulders, and diving into your cunt like a man possessed.

You were really glad everyone else was gone, because the noises you made sounded louder than a rocket launch as he ate your pussy.

Suddenly the cold air hit your cunt, and you whined as he withdrew from your throbbing sex. Smirking at you, he shuffled his pants down his legs, and bent you over your desk, flipping your skirt up.

“You ready? Ready to get fucked over your desk like the worthless little whore you truly are?” Michael whispered in your ear as he guided his cock between your folds.

You whined, and said, “Yes, please fuck me.”

Michael chuckled, and whispered, “Pathetic,” Before pushing in all the way.

You gasped, his cock was huge, and even though you were desperately wet, he was still stretching you to your limit.

Michael groaned at the feel of your tight pussy, and gripped your hair tightly, shoving your face down on the desk as he used you mercilessly.

You absolutely loved it, being degraded and used like this, meeting his thrusts back with your own.

The sounds of him fucking your wet pussy filled the air as it made a sloppy smacking sound, making you blush and hide your face.

“You like that slut, hmm?” Michael moaned.

“I do! I love it, I fucking love it!” You yelled, your voice coming out ragged and gritted through your teeth as he fucked you harder.

Michael groaned from behind you, and you felt him release in your pussy, still thrusting hard. He reached down and started to rub your clit, fingers still wet with your saliva, and you screamed as you came around his cock, milking it for every last drop.

He withdrew from you and turned you around, so you were in his arms.

He looked down at you, tired and worn out, and smiled, kissing you deeply.

“I think I’m gonna keep you.”

The next day, the other officers came in, baffled to see that Michael’s cell was empty, and your office was absolutely trashed, sans one item.

Your resignation, clear as day, and stapled to the door of your now deserted office.


End file.
